the one where tea gets stood up. kindof. oct 31st, technically.

yeah.


this feels a little too much like summer. when i came home defeated, after packing my car for an overnight.


i changed my sheets. i cleaned my apartment. i shaved. i clipped and painted my toenails so i wouldn't scratch him with my feet when we were spooning. and making out.

i had my eyes on the prize.


and just like summer, i should have fucking cashed in last night when the opportunity arose. and just like i did back when i had the chance, i hesitated for another opportunity.

i will never do that again. i can't take it. i beat myself up, and it's no fun.


i went to the bar. i didn't want to go late. so i went for the party. at 830 instead of 8.

and i had a beer.

and got hit on by some 40 year old black dude who swore i was shelly from 2 and chestnut.

he wasn't picking up my hints. he said i looked sad.

i told him i was just tired, and watching the game. world series.

and i told him i was waiting for a friend. he asked male or female. i said male.

he said that if he didn't show up, he'd be sitting a few seats away at the bar.


alas, there was no tim.

i drank my beer. went upstairs to the gutted shell of the second floor bar, celebrating the growth of my favorite bar, that will include a second floor.

they didn't advertise it, but there was free beer.

so i had one. and dude came up behind me and said, 'hey, butterfly.'

i said hi, and then went back downstairs for a second beer and some food, so i could clear the minimum and pay with my card.

i was trying not to watch the door. but i looked a few times.


nothing.

got hit on by another dude, who said i should go upstairs for the free beer. another 40 year old black dude.

i guess i am a type?


then had a third guy (late thirties, white) tell me that i'd look great in my wings and nothing else.

so i fought the urge to get upset by it, because i was still holding out hope that my boy would show, and said, 'but what about the boots?'

thanks.

really.

and way to go, tea. that, too.


maybe someday i'll learn to appreciate these things.

but until that day, it seems i'll always want one specific dude's attention. and fuck every other guy that i have no interest in.


none of the other ones were even remotely cute.


i wanted time.

and i waited.

and he didn't show.


i should have had him over last night.

i should have made out with him while i had the chance. when he was sharing his food with me, and when i shared my food with him. while he was actively, drunkenly, engaged.


instead, i'm home completely drunk at 11. and there's no boy here with me.


sam did show up eventually. and she was a lot of fun. and shannon kept me company, too.

what does it say about me that all the girl bartenders at the bar were the extent of the conversation i had tonight?


oh, and? to top it all off... hot bartender was there. i think with his girl. yeah. he was clark kent. gucci glasses. superman tee hanging out of his dress shirt and dress pants. he looked so good. it was really unfair. and it made me feel pathetic, seeing if he at least saw me, out of the corner of my eye.

whatever.

you know, it's fine.


this is why i'm doomed to lead a solo existence.

this is why i will be alone until february like i promised myself that i would.


because i spent all day not eating because i was so nervous about that boy showing up. and then he didn't. and got stupid drunk drinking beers faster than i should have to avoid further unwelcome conversation.


tim missed out.

i looked fucking adorable. i made sure of it.

whatever.

maybe some day for hangover brunch i'll see him again. if he really goes there all the time like he said that he does, it's inevitable.


but i won't be a butterfly.

and i won't look as cute as i did tonight.

his loss, right? that's what i'm supposed to tell myself?


yeah. well, it doesn't make me feel any better about coming home alone.


all i wanted was to make out. and have this boy as my local fuck buddy after he put in one night where i didn't give it up to him so easily.


and it didn't happen.

not even close.


and i have the spins from the beer. and i missed alice's party and ash's party because i blew my wad all too soon at the bar five doors from my apartment.


again.

whatever.

i'll sleep this off, too. just like the rest of my life.


fuck all.

i'm OUT.

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